


Ash Falling on Snow

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Christmas, F/M, Gen, Post-Hogwarts, The Slytherin Cabal's Twistmas 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21746161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Narcissa is planning something special for the annual Malfoy Christmas Party.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Twistmas 2019 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	Ash Falling on Snow

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Entry for the Slytherin Cabal’s 2019 Twistmas Fic Challenge.  
Prompt: Christmas lights and mulled wine  
Beta: UnderLucius

“What are these?” Lucius drawled, plucking an envelope from the growing pile beside Narcissa.

“Invitations,” she muttered, continuing to write addresses without a skip in her ink.

“Is a large party wise..?” he asked.

“Appearances,” Narcissa replied curtly.

Lucius remained beside her, silently demanding further explanation. Narcissa potted her quill.

“Some holiday cheer would do all of us well,” she explained, gaze on the desk. “A large party is necessary considering our lack of social standing following the Dark Lord’s failure.”

“Draco won’t come,” Lucius replied in a hard tone. Their son had ceased all communication and association with them. Irony was sacrificing beliefs for an ungrateful child who then removed themselves from your life. Regardless, it was folly to chase the boy. Lucius believed he’d only run farther away.

“I know,” Narcissa hissed, pain in her voice. “The party will be part distraction and part campaign.”

Lucius tsked in annoyance; “I’ll never be elected Minister.”

“Not with that attitude,” Narcissa replied, retrieving her quill to continue.

Despite that his wife had pointedly ended their conversation, Lucius continued to linger. Narcissa’s insistence that he pursue a political path was not new but Lucius had little interest in leading the mad beast that was the Ministry for Magic.

“The Wizengamot, then,” Narcissa added, putting voice to Lucius unspoken thoughts.

Perhaps it was the intimacy of the library with its crackling fire and low lights that inspired Lucius to act; he stepped close and pressed a kiss to Narcissa’s temple. They hadn’t been affectionate in over a year. She jerked as if stung.

“Darling..?” Lucius asked softly.

“My apologies, Lucius. You startled me.”

“It’s been too long,” Lucius admitted, gently caressing the intricate coif of Narcissa’s hair.

“Too soon. It’s too soon. Forgive me,” Narcissa whispered, voice barely audible. She leaned stiffly away from Lucius, refusing to look at him.

An icy dart of fear lanced through Lucius. If Narcissa would have none of him, if she could not stand his touch, how could they possibly face the future for their family?

“After the Christmas party,” Narcissa promised. “Let’s try after.”

“As you wish,” Lucius murmured, pushing aside his wounded pride for another time. After so many years together, they had developed unspoken systems of addressing issues between one another. When either of them asked for time, it was given. They trusted no one in the world but each other and their trust was absolute.

A month later found Lucius welcoming guests into his restored and impeccably decorated home for a Christmas celebration. He got a shock to discover precisely what sort of witches and wizards Narcissa had sent invitations…

Alecto and Amycus Carrow… Walden Macnair… Agustus Rookwood… Antonin Dolohov…

Inviting former Death Eaters went entirely against her motives for throwing a large party. Other guests included various Ministry employees; no one of note. And, no family. Lucius pondered Narcissa’s possible reasoning but could not rationalize it. Either she had lied to him about her explanations for the party or… Or what?

When Lucius found her, Narcissa was already directing guests into the dining room.

“My dear,” he began in a low tone, entreating her for subtlety.

“Lucius?” she asked, practically floating with good humor, gazing back at him as if he was the first spark of magic from a new wand.

Pleased to see joy radiating from his witch, Lucius forgot his concerns and gave her a rare smile in return.

“This is lovely, darling,” he breathed.

Dinner was sumptuous and rich. Good conversation and even better wine flowed easily between the guests; Lucius found himself full and quite content.

During a natural lull, Narcissa announced that she had a present for everyone. If they would follow Lucius to the garden, mulled wine and a surprise awaited them. Taking the cue from Narcissa, Lucius dutifully led the way to the French doors that opened into the gardens. The doors parted at his touch and he gestured for their guests to precede him.

As the last guest exited, Lucius noted at least two house-elves eagerly serving the spiced wine as well as the glow of multicolored lights decorating the snowy greenery. How had she achieved that particular effect? He didn’t recognize the spell…

“Try the mulled wine,” Narcissa gushed, handing Lucius a cup as she joined him.

“What spell did you use?” Lucius asked, gesturing towards the greenery beyond the appreciatively murmuring guests.

Narcissa chortled. “They’re Muggle Christmas lights. One of my fondest memories of Christmas.”

Lucius frowned, the cup of steaming wine just a breath from his lips. _Muggle Christmas lights_? Stiff with sudden fear, he mimed sipping. This witch was _not_ his wife. With as small a movement as possible, Lucius drew his wand.

“Don’t you like it?” Narcissa asked suddenly, fixing her gaze on him.

“You know I don’t like to drink before you, my dear,” he crooned. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather die than be held responsible for the deaths of our thirty guests?”

A choking scream rent the crisp evening air.

It was followed by more screams of pain and confusion.

All of the guests were rapidly crumbling into grey piles of ash topped by the frail porcelain wine cups.

Not-Narcissa took a deep breath and let it out, eyes roving the little piles of powder with satisfaction.

“And my wife?”

“Dead a month gone.”

Fear and fury roiled from inside Lucius’ chest so deeply that his hand shook as he lifted his wand.

“No need for that,” the witch wearing Narcissa’s face said softly and lifted a wine cup to her mouth, gulping its contents.

“_Avada Kedavra_!” Lucius roared before the potion could reduce the cretin to dust.

Stomach in painful knots, he watched the body transform and could only blink at it in confusion before it, too, crumbled to ash.

**Epilogue – Two Months Prior**

Distracted by mounting concern, Hermione’s knock on the unfamiliar door was loud and unsteady.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she began, voice trembling. “Do you know what happened next door?”

A plump woman eagerly joined Hermione on the stoop.

“House fire. It’s been some time – at least a year, now. City was supposed to clean it up. The fire was green – said it was chemicals. O’course you know how it is…”

_A house fire? Green flames?_

Pure, white fear lifted through Hermione as she gazed at the wreckage of the home she last knew to house her parents. Acid flooded her stomach and crept up her throat.

“Were there – any survivors?” Hermione rasped, fighting her body’s desire to regurgitate.

“Not one. Lovely young family – a man, woman, and baby. Real shame,” the woman said, pinning Hermione with a closer look. “You related?”


End file.
